


Good Enough

by muses_circle, xtremeroswellian



Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [15]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: Chloe and Dean are both very dramatic, Crossroads, F/M, Jealousy, Rewinding the clock, Temporary Character Death, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: When tragedy strikes, Chloe's given the chance to rewind the clock and set things right.
Relationships: Chloe Sullivan & Jo Harvelle, Chloe Sullivan & Sam Winchester, Chloe Sullivan & Sarah Blake, Chloe Sullivan/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Jo Harvelle, Sarah Blake/Sam Winchester
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722754





	Good Enough

He could feel his life force leaving his body, the blood flowing out faster than Chloe could stop it. He tried licking his lips, shifting slowly and uncomfortably in her arms. "Stop," he grunted softly, his arm too heavy to touch her. 

"No," she said fiercely, pressing her hands firmly against the wound in his chest. 

"Chloe...." The words came out in a wistful sigh as he closed his eyes, feeling the burn of the gunshot wound fade away. Numbness... his body felt light with death.

He wanted to struggle against it, wanted to stay with her. But the darkness overcame him. He silently said I love you before giving up to the after-life.

&&&&&

Twelve hours earlier...

Sunlight streaked through the windows, waking him from the soundest sleep he'd had in several weeks. Snuggled against him lay Chloe, her eyes closed, lost in her slumber. Groggily, he smiled, turning and placing a gentle kiss upon her lips. 

A soft sigh escaped her at the light kiss and in her sleep she shifted closer to him. 

He smirked, trailing kisses down her cheek to the back of her throat, softly, slowly. Savoring the moment, because it seemed like they might never have this again. 

She shivered as the soft kisses woke her from her slumber, a smile spreading across her face as she kept her eyes closed. "Morning," she whispered. 

"Morning," he growled softly in her ear, nibbling on her lobe lightly. His arms wrapped around her body, drawing him back to her. His fingers circled patterns around her skin, through the smooth valley between her breasts. "I like you naked in the morning." 

"Just in the morning?" she asked in a teasing voice. 

He tweaked a nipple and grinned. "Tease," he grunted, turning her around to face him, kissing her lips, hot and demanding. 

Chloe groaned, kissing him back urgently, her hands sliding down his bare chest. 

He chuckled against her lips, feeling her shiver with anticipation when she slid across his lower body, his hard length bouncing against her thigh. "A little early morning nookie?" he whispered, hands massaging her breasts, his mouth traveling down her neck. 

"We could stay here all day and that'd be fine with me," she whispered back, biting her lower lip as his hardness pressed into her. 

Grabbing her leg, he draped it across his hip and stroked her inner thigh. "What, you didn't wanna be my good luck charm at the poker table?" he retorted, slipping a finger into her, listening to her moan with a wide grin on her face. 

"I'd rather be your good luck charm right here," she whispered, shifting her hips closer to his hand. 

Leaning into her, Dean licked and sucked on the tender spot on her neck, his body hardening with intense need as she gently rode his finger. Listening to her breath hitch in her throat. 

"Please," she murmured, her nails raking lightly down his shoulder blade. 

He smirked, sliding another finger into her, moving his hand slowly as her muscles clutched at them impatiently. She just felt so good, he thought, rolling her on top of him. 

Chloe bit down hard on her lip, riding his hand slowly, her eyes shutting as her breathing hitched in her throat again. 

He looked up at her, watching the varying stages of pleasure cross her face. He reluctantly pulled out of her, shifting so his thick manhood slipped easily into her. He saw her eyes shoot wide open and smirked. "What, I'm impatient," he replied in a low growl. 

She groaned in response, sinking down onto his length and resting her hands against his chest. She didn't hesitate before she began to rock against him quickly. 

Dean moved with her, their breathing heavy and in sync with each other. She came first, riding him hard, never giving him a chance to adjust. His thrusts into her were jerky, ragged. He grasped her hips, trying to hold her still as she shook all around him, her nails dragging down his chest. 

Chloe cried out his name as he thrust up into her one last time, hard, both of their bodies shuddering from the activity as she slowly collapsed against him, her hair drenched with sweat. 

"God," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her, his breath heavy against her damp skin. "That's what I call a good morning." He licked a bead of sweat off her skin and smiled placidly. 

She shivered at the feel of his tongue against her shoulder, pressing her lips against his collarbone. "We should wake up like this every morning.' 

"Yeah, it'll be your turn tomorrow." He looked into her sated eyes and smiled. "I love you, Chloe Sullivan." 

She smiled back at him, placing a kiss against his lips. "I love you, too," she whispered back. 

He grinned, rolling her onto her back, his body hard with need for her again. His stomach interrupted him, however, and he grimaced. "I'm starving. Wanna get room service? Might as well, since Sam and I splurged for this swanky hotel and all." 

She smirked up at him. "Room service works for me." 

Kissing her neck, he fumbled for the phone. "Good, you call," he muttered against her neck, grinding into her one last time before rolling off. "Make sure to order the steak with the scrambled eggs." He kissed her finger, the one that wore his protection ring, and got out of bed. 

"Where are you going?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, propping herself up on one elbow. 

He turned and grinned at her. "For some money, of course. Unless you've got other ideas in mind?" He laughed when she frowned playfully at him. 

"I don't think I'm the only one with other ideas," she responded with a smirk as her gaze trailed down his body. 

His entire being burned with the knowledge that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Especially since she had dropped her mind wall, letting him in. His smile grew cocky and he stood there, arms slung by his side. Posing for her. Trying to keep her mind occupied so he could look for the number to the roadhouse just outside Atlantic City. 

"There's a roadhouse near here?" she asked, the smile fading from her face. 

Shit, he thought, blocking his thoughts from her immediately and turning his back to her, grabbing the phone book and his wallet. "Uh, yeah. Sam wanted me to... check something out while we were here. At the casino." He shrugged it off as nothing. 

"I thought we were on vacation." Her body grew tense the second he blocked her from his mind. Instinctively, she blocked him from hers once more, as well. 

"We are on vacation. I just have to check something out, okay? It's not like I'm hunting." He turned and looked at her intently. 

Chloe stared back at him, wondering why it bothered her so much. "Yeah. Okay." She shrugged a little, climbing out of bed and slipping her robe on before picking up the phone, her back to him. 

Dean sighed inwardly and sat heavily down on the bed, not bothering to get dressed, though he figured Chloe wouldn't let him touch her again. He listened to her order their breakfast while his eyes scanned the yellow pages. He just had to find out if she had the Colt, he mused, smirking when he found the number. 

She handed him the phone silently when she was done ordering breakfast. "I'm gonna take a quick shower." 

He blinked and watched her walk into the bathroom, her irritation remaining in the room as she nearly slammed the door behind her. Sighing, he dialed the number and waited for an answer. 

"Roadhouse," said a gruff, male voice. 

"Lookin' for Jo Harvelle," Dean replied. 

There was a pause. "Who's asking?" 

"Just get her on the phone." 

A moment later, Jo's voice came over the line. "Who is this?" she demanded. 

"Who do you think?" Dean snarked. 

She paused. "Dean Winchester." She smirked. "And how exactly did you find me?" 

"You think I'm an idiot?" he snorted. "Ellen told me, for starters." 

Annoyed, Jo frowned. "So much for anyone keeping their damn mouths shut." 

He sighed, frustrated. "Whatever, get over it. Do you have it?" 

"Have what?" 

"You know damn well what," he growled lowly into the phone, casting a glance at the bathroom door. 

"I guess some things never change. You're still a jerk." She hung up the phone. 

"Jo--" Dean cried, but all he heard was a dial tone on the other end. He crashed down the phone with a string of curses, grabbing his jeans when he heard a knock on the door. He yanked it open, let the waiter in, and paid him. He was just peeking under the warmers when he heard the bathroom door open. 

Chloe, now fully dressed, stared at him, her heart beating quickly in her chest. 

"Now, you're way overdressed for what I have in mind," he drawled, crossing his arms and smirking at her. His biceps bulged out, making him look bigger. His jeans suddenly became snug. 

"I might be," she said calmly. "But you never know about Jo." 

The sensual smirk became irritated. "How'd I know you were listening on the other side?" he snapped, sprawling into a chair and digging into the steak. 

"Screw you, Dean," she responded, heading for the door. "You're the one who screamed her name before you slammed down the fucking phone. The people down the hall probably heard you." She yanked the door open. 

He scrambled out of his chair, knocking it down and grabbing her before she had the chance to leave. "Just a goddamn minute," he demanded, slamming the door shut and locking it. "If you stop putting two and two together, you won't get five!" 

She flinched involuntarily. "You think I don't know you're the one who suggested Atlantic City for our--" She made quotes with her fingers. "Vacation?" 

"Hey, have I don't anything remotely connected with hunting since we got here three days ago?!" he demanded, leaning back against the door. "And I didn't know she was here until yesterday." He met her fiery eyes with a smirk. 

Her jaw tightened. "Yeah, and I'm sure it's taken all of your restraint to keep from calling her until now," she spat, unlocking the door again. 

"Jesus, jealous much?" he complained, not letting her out. "Will you sit down so I can tell you why I called her?!" 

Glaring at him, she folded her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed with barely-contained anger. 

He stared back at her intently for a moment, then grabbed her and hauled her against him, pressing an angry, frustrated kiss onto her pursed lips. He gripped her arms, not letting her squirm out of his embrace. 

A soft whimper of protest escaped her but she didn't try to pull away, mostly because he made it clear he wasn't going to let her. 

His mouth ground against hers, fairly sure he was bruising her lips, though she didn't seem to mind. He pulled back for a moment, looking at her slightly dazed face. "You gonna listen now?" he whispered harshly. 

She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself once more as she moved to sit on the bed, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. 

Scrubbing his face with a hand, he paced around the room. "Look, I think I've got a lead on the one thing that'll kill that Yellow-Eyed son-of-a-bitch." 

Of all the things she thought he might say, that was the last thing she'd been expecting. "You think you've found the Colt?" 

"Yes, Chloe. The Colt." He didn't look at her, his face hard, stony. He reached the window, swatting the curtains with an angry hand, then turned to cross the room again. "I've been making a lot of inquiries, ever since you were taken." He snuck a glance at her. 

She flinched involuntarily. "And you think Jo has it?" 

"Yes." Dean looked intently at her. "Why else would I call that skinny chick?" 

She avoided his gaze. 

He waited for a response, and when he got none, he resumed his pacing around the room. Her silence felt like a hand squeezing his heart dry. She thinks I'm cheating on her, he thought miserably. 

"I don't think that," she whispered, resting her face in her hands for a moment. 

He snorted. "Right, and you're not reading me the riot act for calling her." 

She rose to her feet, slowly turning to face him. "You're not the only one who's insecure on occasion, Dean." 

"And when have I done anything to make you think I want anyone else, Chloe?" He folded his arms over his chest, irritated. 

She opened her mouth to respond and closed it again as she realized it wasn't him that was the problem this time. "You haven't," she answered quietly, before turning and slowly heading for the door. 

Dean anticipated her movement, slamming a hand on the door before she could open it. "No," he whispered, "you're not leaving. Jo's business, okay? I sure as hell wouldn't be talking to her if I didn't think she had the Colt." 

"I know," she whispered, tears burning against her eyelids. 

He ran a hand up her arm, gently squeezing her shoulder. "Then what's with the jealousy act? I really don't get it." 

"Knee-jerk reaction, I guess," she whispered. 

Dean's heart grew heavy again, and he pulled back. "Oughta beat the hell out of Clark for what he did," he whispered, turning and hitting the wall instead. Angry, confused. Hurt. 

She flinched. "Dean--" 

He yanked the door open. "I'm hitting the poker tables for awhile," he muttered, ignoring her. 

She shut her eyes as he slammed the door shut behind him. 

Rather than heading for the elevator to take him to the ground floor, Dean stormed next door to Sam and Sarah's room. His eyes burned with the hurt Chloe had spoken aloud, and for the first time, he wondered if he would ever truly win her trust. He pounded on the door loudly, hoping his brother was awake. 

A moment later, Sam appeared, squinting. "Dude. What?" 

He flashed an insincere smile. "Oh, did I wake you up?" 

He scowled. "Duh." 

"Whatever, Sammy. I think I've found a lead on..." Dean leaned in a whispered, "... the Colt." 

Instantly the scowl left his face and he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him quietly. "Where?" 

"There's a Roadhouse not too far from here. Jo's tending it. And dude, I think she has it." He watched the surprise register on his brother's face. 

"How the hell did Jo get the Colt?" he whispered in disbelief, stunned. 

Dean shrugged. "I really don't know, but does it matter? If that's in play, I can finally see a way to kill that son of a bitch." 

He nodded slowly. "We'll go see her." 

"Hang on, Sam," he protested, "I'll go. I need you to... watch out for Chloe for me." He saw the look of annoyance enter Sam's eyes and glared back at him. 

"Why? What's wrong with her?" 

"Aside from her thinking I'm screwing around on her? Absolutely nothing." 

Sam stared at Dean, shocked. "Why would she..." He quickly put the pieces together. "Jo." 

Dean lifted a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Yeah... Jo," he repeated sarcastically. "And can't forget Clark, the guy who ruined it for the rest of us." 

He winced a little. "Dean, I'm sorry." 

Holding up a hand, Dean whispered, "Dude, doesn't matter. I'm just gonna go steal the Colt from Jo and come back." He stopped when he saw a look of concern enter Sam's eye and sighed. "Yes, I know. I was the one who wanted a break..." 

He sighed softly and looked at the floor. "We'll keep an eye on her. Tell Jo I said hi." 

"Is that before or after I sock her in the face?" he grunted, turning away. "I'm taking the Impala." He pulled out the keys and stalked towards the elevator. 

Sam drew in a breath and watched him go, a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

&&&&&

Jo wiped down the bar, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as her thoughts led her far from where she was currently working. She didn't pay any attention when the door to the Roadhouse opened. 

The first thing Dean honed in on when he waltzed through the door was Jo. The rest of the bar was pretty empty, which was a little unusual. He smirked when she looked up, irritation and surprise in her eyes. "I your first customer?" 

She tensed a little, though annoyed at the shiver of delight that ran through her at the sight of him. "Of the day." 

"Good," he replied casually, sitting at the corner barstool. "Gimme a beer, then we can talk about the Colt." The smirk deepened as he watched the emotions splay across her face and laced his fingers together, resting them on the bar. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said flatly, slamming a beer down in front of him. 

He took a long dreg before answering. "The hell you don't, Jo. You've had it awhile, haven't you? Thought we'd never find you?" 

She raised an eyebrow and she leaned her elbows on the countertop, gazing at him intently. 

He was slightly disturbed by the way she was gazing at him, stars in her eyes, as if she was trying to throw him off her scent. He leaned closer to her. "Come on, Jo. Who gave it to ya?" 

"Maybe I found it," she responded. 

He chuckled, taking another swallow from his beer. "We both know you'd have never found it on your own. No, the Yellow-Eyed Demon had it." He cast her a curious perusal. "Question is, why did he give it to you?" 

Jo glared at him. "I'm smarter than you think, Winchester." 

He snorted. "Really? Could've fooled me." He stood up and leaned across the bar. "I need that gun, dammit. Hand it over." 

She snorted derisively. "You think you're the only one in need of a gun that can kill anything? Think again." Her eyes were cold. 

His eyes narrow in irritation. He wanted to leap across the counter and strangle the answer out of her. Something stopped him, though: John's voice. As much as he truly didn't like this young blonde, it was his father's voice, telling him why fighting with girls was never a good idea, that kept him still. "What the hell do you need the Colt for?" he asked cautiously, looking for some hint of weakness in her eyes. 

"That's none of your business anymore," she said harshly. 

He grabbed her hand when she tried to turn and leave. "Actually, it's more my business than you know," he whispered, "especially since I know you were the one who told Gordon about Sam." 

She froze, and slowly turned to face him, stunned by the accusation. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

He let her go, amused by her glare. "Funny thing I found while searching for that damn gun. You and Gordon kept in pretty close contact up until he died, didn't you?" 

Looking at him in bewilderment, she shook her head. "Gordon's dead?" 

"Yes, he's dead," he retorted, paling a little. She was either the greatest actress in the world or she really had no idea what was going on. 

Blinking with shock, she leaned back against the wall, her own face pale. 

He swallowed hard and took a step back from her. "You know what he was doing, right?" he demanded softly, curious as to her response. 

"Hunting demons like the rest of us?" Tears pooled in her eyes involuntarily and she quickly blinked them back. 

He shook his head carefully. "Hunting us, Jo," he replied evenly. "Working for a man who's almost as evil as the Demon. Nearly got us all killed for his effort before I put a bullet in his brain." 

Shock registered on her face, which grew even paler at his words. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

He sighed and stood up. "Gordon evil. Us almost dead. Gordon dead. Can I make it any plainer?" 

She didn't respond, looking more than a little dazed as she tried to comprehend what he was telling her. "Why would he be hunting you?" 

"What, don't you know?" he whipped out quickly. "You're a better actress than I gave you credit for." He slapped his hand on the bar counter. "Now give me the Colt." 

"Because of Sam," she whispered as the truth dawned on her. "Oh God." 

He shot close to her face, eyes burning with anger. "What do you know about him?" he growled. 

She flinched. "Only what the two of you told my mother and I!" 

"You're lying. I know you told Gordon about Sam, and I know you've got the Colt hidden away somewhere." 

"I'm not lying, Dean! I have the Colt but I didn't tell Gordon anything!" 

"And how the hell did you get the Colt?!" He balled his fists, itching to punch the wall. 

Her back pressed against the wall, she swallowed hard, frightened of him at the moment. "I stole it from him before he left town!" 

"And what was he doing here?" he said slowly. 

"Looking for you," she said harshly. 

He smacked his hand down on the counter top. "And you wanna know why he went looking for us? What he helped do to Chloe? How he tried to get to Sam?!" 

"And I suppose that's my fault?" An angry tear trickled down her cheek. "I didn't know where the hell you were, how could I possibly tell him anything?" 

"I don't know, Jo. Why don't you explain that to me?" He grabbed her arm when she tried to talk away. 

"Why would I want Gordon to go after you or Sam?" she demanded, trying to pull away from him. 

Dean smirked but kept her in place. "God, I tell ya, between you and Chloe, it's a wonder I'm still sane." He pushed her away abruptly and moved around the counter, searching for the Colt. 

"It's not here," she said tensely. 

"Then where the fuck is it?!" He was beginning to lose his patience. 

"There a problem out here, Jo?" A large, gruff looking man stepped around the bar, glaring at Dean. 

"No, no problem. Go away, Dean," she said, folding her arms across her chest. 

"No, Jo." Dean glanced at the large, beefy-looking bouncer and smirked. "Not until I get what I've come here for." 

The man's eyes narrowed, taking the remark the wrong way. Without hesitation he drew back his fist and punched Dean hard in the face. "Stay the fuck away from her," he warned, glaring down at where he lay sprawled out on the floor. 

Grimacing and holding his nose, Dean looked up at the man towering over him, glaring. "You need to keep your nose out of this," he growled, getting to his feet quickly, only to be sent sprawling onto the floor by another flying punch to the gut. 

"Stop it, Eddie!" Jo grabbed his arm, her eyes full of alarm. "He wasn't trying to hurt me!" 

"Great," he muttered, struggling to his feet, his stomach twisted in knots from the pain. "Now will you give me the damn gun? You're about as fun as a plane ride in a storm." 

Her eyes flashing with hurt she avoided his gaze. "I told you it's not here." 

"Then where is it?" He glanced at Eddie, whose fists were clenched in giant balls, waiting to pop him again. "Jo, don't make me ask again..." 

"Or what?" she demanded, another tear trickling down her face. "You'll hit me?" 

The fact that she assumed this burned Dean up, simply because, had she really know him or what was going on, she would have known he'd never do something so stupid. Sighing heavily, he replied, "What, with Thundar the Barbarian standing next to you?" His eyes flashed irritation but he turned to leave. 

"Don't come back, Buddy," Eddie warned. 

"Sure thing, Bubba," Dean snapped, giving Jo a look that told he would be back for Colt. 

Jo swallowed hard before slowing sitting down on a bar stool, her heart pounding in her chest. 

Hand hitting the door, Dean nearly beat it down with the force of his anxiety and frustration. He slumped into the driver's side and sat for a moment. "Well, baby," he said, looking at the steering wheel, "guess we've got some plotting to do." He looked down at the keys he'd pulled out of his pocket and started the car, intent on spending the day figuring out where the Colt was and why Jo Harvelle felt she needed it. 

&&&&&

By the time Dean reached their hotel again, he was fuming. He could almost feel the steam shooting out of his ears. Storming to the elevator, he mashed the button, waiting impatiently to get back to Chloe. 

When he walked into their room, he found her standing by the window, looking out. He shut the door, saying nothing. Afraid to speak for what might come out of his mouth. 

She flinched as the door shut loudly. Swallowing hard, she slowly turned to face him. 

The look on her face made him angrier, but he couldn't meet her eyes. "So..." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"For what?" 

She closed her eyes, pained. "For everything I said earlier." 

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "Okay." He grabbed his flask from his coat and took a deep swallow, his mind mulling over how to break into the roadhouse to get the Colt. He sat heavily on the bed, tired, his mental block falling as he concentrated on his next move. 

She hesitated a moment before moving to sit down on the other side of the bed. "So she definitely has it," she murmured. 

He stiffened in surprise. "Yeah, she does... the bitch." He muttered under his breath, not moving when she laid a hand on his shoulder. He knocked back another shot, grimacing at the burn sliding down his throat. 

"What do you suppose she wants with it?" 

Hell if I know, he thought, standing up and moving across the room. "She stole it from Gordon, though." 

She flinched at the sound of the name. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" She wrapped her arms around herself. 

"Because she took it from him after he left to chase us down in New Mexico," he grumbled, thinking how much better it was now that Gordon Walker was dead. One less person to kill in this coming battle. 

His thoughts startled her, her face going pale. "Gordon's dead?" she whispered, stunned. 

"Yes, Gordon's dead. I shot him myself, Chloe." His words shot out of his mouth, voice filled with aggravation. "Do you think I'd let him live after what he and Lex did to you?" 

She flinched involuntarily. "Dean," she whispered, slowly turning to look at him. 

_Just don't,_ Chloe, he thought, silently turning around to gaze at her beautiful face. 

_Don't what_? She shook her head, her eyes burning with tears. 

_Don't give me the speech about killing Gordon and how it was a bad thing._ His eyes narrowed. _I would've done anything to make sure you were safe._

_I wasn't going to give you any speech!_

"Then why did you have the I'm going to give you a speech look?" 

Chloe shook her head, stunned by the accusing tone of his voice. "Why didn’t you say anything?" 

He threw up his hands. "Honestly, it skipped my mind. I had more important things to take care of. You, for example." He didn't need to take his anger out on her, not when it was directed at Jo. The look on her face was proof he was hurting her. Again. 

Swallowing hard, she turned away from him. 

A muscle in his cheek twitched violently. "Where's Sam? I need to talk to him." He put the now empty flask on the table and headed for the door. 

"I assume he's next door with his wife," she responded distantly. 

"Good. Maybe he can help me figure out how to get the Colt back." 

"Yeah. Clearly I can't." 

His hand stopped on the doorknob. "I'm not going to let you help, Chloe," he whispered quietly, feeling a wave of fear overtake him suddenly. 

"Why not?" Her voice was pained. 

He turned to look at her. _And watch you get kidnapped, hurt, or killed?_ he shot at her mentally. _No way. Even Jo's not safe._

The accusatory tone of his voice in her head caused all the air to leave her lungs. 

"I'm sorry, Chlo," he continued, unimpeded, "but there's no way I'm letting you near her. She's got this huge Wookie of a body guard who tried his best to kick me out. I'll kill her before she can get her hands on you." 

It took her a moment to realize the bruise that was forming on his face. "Jesus, Dean," she whispered, quickly moving toward him. "Are you all right?" 

He didn't look at her. "Fine," he rasped, his grip on the doorknob so tight his knuckled were white. 

"Please look at me," she whispered. 

His eyes remained bowed. _No._

 _Why not?_ Tears prickled at her eyes again. 

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Because I'm going after the Colt and I don't want you to come with me." His heart sank as he spoke out loud, wanting nothing more than to take her with him. It was a selfish thought, however, especially since she had nearly died once already. 

"And that means you can't even look at me?" 

"Yes." 

Her heart heavy, she turned away from him again, this time for a different reason. "Then go," she said, her voice bitter. 

Dean sighed heavily, feeling her close up and move away from him in more ways than one. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking from the whirlwind of emotions moving through him. Without waiting for a response, knowing he wouldn't get one, he yanked the door open and shut it quietly behind him, leaning against the other side for a moment.

He had lost her. He was pretty sure of that fact.

&&&&&

"Are you sure she's got the Colt here, Dean?" Sam whispered from the passenger seat of the Impala, staring out the windshield at the small bar. 

"Yes, I'm sure, Sammy," he whispered, watching the lights in the roadhouse go out finally. He looked at his brother. "Wait here. We might need to get outta here fast if she or that gorilla catches me." 

"Yeah, all right. Be careful." Feeling uneasy as he watched his brother climb out of the car, Sam slid into the driver's seat. 

He smirked and ran towards the Roadhouse, skirting around the back of the small building. He saw an unlocked window and slowly lifted it open, sliding through the small opening, grateful to be so short for once.

He landed quietly on his feet in the back room, which was comprised primarily of never-ending stacks of boxes. He sighed, frustrated. "Where the hell do I start?" he whispered to himself, stilling suddenly when he heard a noise. 

"You just don't give up, do you?" Jo glared at him from where she stood in the entrance. 

His body relaxed only a fraction, and his gun lowered. "If you knew me at all," he whispered, "then you'd already know the answer to that question." 

She looked down for a moment. "I need the Colt, Dean." 

"Give me one reason why," he rasped quietly, taking a step towards her, his weapon falling to his side. 

"Because I'm in trouble," she admitted. 

He snorted. "Not like we are, sister. You're gonna be in a whole lot more trouble if you don't hand it over. Now." He noticed a large figure behind her suddenly and nearly laughed bitterly. 

She tensed involuntarily, quickly looking over her shoulder to see Eddie. "It's okay," she told him. "We're just talking. I'm fine, Eddie." 

"Yeah, Eddie," Dean repeated, close to pointing his gun at the massive guy in the doorway. He glanced back at Jo. "So are you gonna hand it over, or do I need to take it by force?" 

"I already told you it's not here, Dean." Her voice was even. 

Pointing the gun directly at her head, he whispered, "Then you better take me to it." 

There was hurt in her eyes, disbelief. "Do you really hate me that much?" 

"No, Jo, I don't hate you," he replied, his focus totally on her. "I hate the demon. I hate what it's done to my family... what it could do. And nothing's gonna get in my way of keeping them safe." He saw Eddie take a step closer and aimed his gun at him. 

"Dean, don't--" Jo said in frightened alarm as Eddie lifted his own gun and fired a shot. "No!" 

Though he squeezed the trigger, Dean felt something hit him in the middle of his chest. A hard, biting sting. He collapsed onto the concrete floor, groaning softly as he felt his life hanging in the balance. Much like drowning, he thought blindly. 

Chloe had just climbed through the window as the shot was fired. She felt the wound almost as if it were her own. "Dean!" 

"C-Chloe?" he asked weakly, trying to move his head towards the sound of her voice. His body felt so heavy, though; his chest grew numb and cold. 

She quickly moved to his side, tears flooding her eyes. "Oh God no," she whispered, cradling his head in her lap and pressing her hands to his stomach. She looked up at Jo. "Call 911!" 

Frightened out of her wits, Jo simply nodded, wishing Dean had given up his quest to find the Colt, grabbed Eddie, and ran out of the room for the phone.

He couldn't move his head, but his eyes met hers, sparkling with tears, in the moonlight from the window. "Don't... cry," he whispered, his words slurred. "Just a... scratch." He tried to laugh but spit up blood instead. 

A tear trickled down her face and splashed onto his skin. "Just hang on, Dean. You're gonna be fine." 

He coughed again, trying to move his leaden limbs. Then it hit him: _I'm going to die._

"No," she whispered. "Don't think that. You're not going to die!" 

He could feel his life force leaving his body, the blood flowing out faster than Chloe could stop it. He tried licking his lips, shifting slowly and uncomfortably in her arms. "Stop," he grunted softly, his arm too heavy to touch her. He vaguely felt a slight pressure on his torso, but he didn’t know what that was from.

"No," she said fiercely, pressing her hands firmly against the wound in his chest. 

"Chloe...." The words came out in a wistful sigh as he closed his eyes, feeling the burn of the gunshot wound fade away. Numbness... his body felt light with death.

He wanted to struggle against it, wanted to stay with her. But the darkness overcame him. He silently said I love you before giving up to the after-life. 

"No! No!" A scream tore from her throat. "Dean! Wake up!" 

Jo scrambled back into the room, phone in hand. "Is he okay?" she whispered tentatively, seeing Dean's white face and knowing the answer before Chloe looked up. She dropped the receiver onto the floor, biting back a sob. 

Her face pale, Chloe slowly pulled away from him, rising to her feet, not looking at Jo as she headed for the door numbly. 

The moment he heard the gunshot in the air, Sam scrambled out of the Impala, running at a breakneck speed to the front door. He stopped suddenly, however, when he saw Chloe standing on the other side, skin white as a sheet. Covered in blood.

"Chloe??" he asked incredulously. "What happened to....?" He stopped up short, prickles of fear shooting up his spine. "Where's Dean?" 

She looked up at him silently, her eyes hollow and her face pale as death. 

"Dean!" he shouted, pushing past her quickly and into the back room. He found Jo standing there, looking small and frightened, next to someone on the floor. It was Dean, he realized quickly, sinking to his knees. "Dean," he whispered, grabbing his brother and shaking him, tears leaking out of his eyes. 

Her breathing was shallow as she walked to the Impala and slid in behind the wheel, starting the car without hesitation before peeling out of the parking lot. 

&&&&&

Chloe made it to the spot she'd noted hours earlier in record time. Slamming on the brakes she hauled herself out of the car, going around to open the trunk and finding a small box there. Closing her eyes tightly, she pulled her license out of her purse an slid it inside, along with the watch she always wore. She moved to the middle of the dirt road, digging with her bare hands and burying the box without hesitation. 

"Hello, Chloe," a voice said behind her after a few moments. 

She turned slowly, not prepared to see the figure that stood there, her long blonde hair flowing down her back. "Mrs. Winchester?" she whispered, sure she was seeing things. 

She smiled serenely despite the stricken look on the young woman's face. "Call me Mary... Chloe," she replied, taking a step closer to her. "I'm not a crossroads demon, if that's what you were thinking. I've blocked it from getting to you." 

"Why?" she whispered, shaking her head. 

"Because we need to talk about your relationship with Dean." Her quiet words broke the silence of the night. 

"I think we need to talk about something more pressing that that considering he just died in my arms." Her voice broke. 

"That's just what I'm saying, Chloe," she replied, the sadness in her voice apparent. "Your relationship with him is in question, especially because you need to help him out." 

Trying to pull herself together, she forced herself to take a deep breath. "How?" 

"By finding the gun that will kill the thing that killed me." Mary took another step closer to the blonde, who looked at her with accusatory eyes. "If you're worthy to be with my son, you can do this." 

"I'd be more than happy to track down the Colt, but Dean's already dead!" 

"Not when I have the means to turn back the clock." 

Chloe stared at her, her heart thudding heavily. "You can do that?" she whispered. 

She smiled gently. "Yes, I can," she replied, resting her hand on Chloe's shoulder. "But Chloe, Dean cannot die. Do you understand? You must do anything it takes to prevent this event from happening again... because I can only do this once." She paused, looking down. "My boys are needed here, on earth, not with me yet." 

Tears stung her eyes, feeling the weight of the entire world--not just her own--rest upon her shoulders. "I understand," she whispered thickly. 

"Get Sam and Sarah to help you," Mary insisted, gripping Chloe's shoulder. "Dean's stubborn, but what's coming is bigger than you can imagine. You have to stay united." 

She shuddered involuntarily. "Okay." 

Mary took a moment, looking at the young woman who had caught her son's heart, and smiled. "Chloe," she whispered, placing a gentle hand on her cheek, "Dean loves you, and he needs you now. I know you can help him. Trust yourself. Trust your love for him." 

A tear trickled down Chloe's cheek as she gazed at the mother of the two men she loved most in her life. "I'll do whatever it takes." There was determination in her voice. 

Mary smiled. "You and Sarah... take care of them." With that, she looked into the heavens, muttered a few words, and disappeared into the night. 

&&&&&

She woke up to the feel of Dean's lips pressing lightly against her own. A soft gasp escaping her as the events of previous hours flooded into her mind, she sat up quickly, trembling. 

Trailing light kisses along her cheekbone, towards her neck, he muttered, "Good morning." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. 

She closed her eyes tightly at the sound of his voice, tightening her arms around his as she shuddered against him. 

Dean smiled against her skin. "Have I mentioned how good you taste in the morning?" He rolled her onto her back and lifted her shirt up, licking the side of her breast. 

A soft groan escaped her and she lifted her arms to help him remove the shirt from her body. She looked at him, her green eyes wild as she pulled him closer, crushing her lips against his.

Her fervor surprised him a little, though he willingly sank beneath the weight of her kisses. His hands delved into her hair, holding her head still as their lips moved together frantically. 

"I love you," she whispered urgently. 

He pulled back and looked at her, a genuine heart-melting smile on his face. "I love you, too," he replied, wondering what had brought on such an aggressive display. Normally you're not like this, he thought, his dark head bending to her stomach, caressing her gently. 

She shut her eyes as he trailed kisses down to her belly button. I know, she thought back, sliding her fingers through his hair. 

"What makes today different?" he asked aloud, tugging at the sheet between then to stroke her thighs. 

The image of him dying in her arms flashed through her mind quickly and she cringed. "It's a new day," she whispered. 

He smiled with her thighs quivered in anticipation, a little surprised to feel her core ready for him when he slipped a finger into her. "Yeah," he replied, frowning slightly when she pulled him up to her, kissing him again. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. 

Working his finger slowing in her, he listened to the moans escaping her lips, even as she tugged hard on his hair, muttering incoherent thoughts as her mouth attacked his. Her desperation confused him, especially since they had a good three more days before they left Atlantic City and the Harrah's casino.

Nevertheless, when he heard her whimper, he swirled his finger around, rubbing her clit gently, pulling back to watch her rise higher towards climax. His own body throbbed with need, but he chose to put off the moment, content to watch her. 

She whimpered again, lifting her hips closer to him, her breath coming out in fast, shallow pants. "Please, Dean." 

"I wanna watch you," he whispered, leaning down to lick behind her earlobe, slipping in another finger, his thumb rubbing her as she rode his fingers, inching towards her climax. 

She bit down hard on her lip, her inner muscles gripping him tightly as he worked her body. Her fingers tightened in his hair as her body shattered, making her cry out his name as she shuddered. 

He kissed her moaning away, swallowing her cries with his mouth, slipping out his fingers just as she crested and replacing it with his thick cock. She cried out again and he plunged into her repeatedly, fast and frantic, aching to give her release. 

She tightened her arms around him, burying her face against his neck as he rode her. "I love you, I love you," she whispered against his ear, a hint of desperation mixed in with the whimpers. 

"Chloe," Dean moaned urgently, taking them both over the edge with a final thrust. Their breathing heavy and in sync, he released himself, nearly seeing stars with the sheer force of his climax. He collapsed on top of her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her sweaty forehead. "You always surprise me, you know that?" he whispered in her ear. 

She cupped his cheeks in her hands, kissing softly on the lips. 

He smiled, peaceful and sated, meeting her gentle kisses with his own. "Good morning," he said again, breaking the strangely tense atmosphere in the room. 

She groaned softly as he rolled them so she was lying atop him. "Good morning," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. 

Wiping the wet locks from her face, he smiled back. "Hey, you hungry?" 

"Not for food," she whispered. 

He rubbed her sides, gently teasing her flushed skin and smiled wickedly. "I'd love to know what you're hungry for... because I sure could use some breakfast." He kissed her hard on the lips, then rolled her off him and got out of bed. 

The moment was so familiar that she shuddered involuntarily. 

Dean turned around just in time to see a shadow cross her face. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, striding across the room for the phone book and his wallet. 

"Nothing," she whispered, rising up on her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck when he moved closer to the bed. "I just love you." 

He leaned into her embrace and chuckled. "Yeah, I know, Chloe," he whispered, sitting down on the bed next to her. "I love you, too. Now, wanna order food while I... look for something in the book?" He hesitated, not sure if he should tell her about the Colt. 

She smoothed some hair back from his eyes, gazing at him intently. "It's okay. I know what you're looking for." 

He blinked back his shock, his face turning stony. "What am I looking for, Chloe?" he asked a little sharply. 

"The Colt," she said very softly. 

"The... Colt?" He looked away from her and stood up, picking up his jeans as he straightened himself. "How the hell do you know about that?" 

"I can read your mind," she said gently. 

"But that was something I was pretty sure I kept from you," he protested, voice low and becoming angry. 

She looked down. "Not well enough, I guess." 

His frown grew deeper. "Dammit, Chloe," he growled, yanking on a clean shirt, "I didn't want you to know about it." 

"Why not?" 

"Because... I don't know if Jo has it or not," he replied quietly, not looking at her when he spoke. Afraid of her reaction when Ellen's daughter came into play. 

"Well...all we can do is hope, right?" Her voice was soft. 

He stilled, turning to look at her with incredulous eyes. "What, not gonna read me the riot act for thinking about calling Jo at the Roadhouse down the street to get it from her?" 

"If she has it, we need it." She gazed at him intently. 

He sighed and looked away. "I want you to stay here while I go, okay?" 

Chloe shut her eyes for a moment. "Okay. Just...promise me you'll be careful, okay?" 

Smirking, Dean moved to her and kissed her soundly. "Aren't I always careful?" he asked, caressing her cheek before placing another lingering kiss on her lips. I love you, he thought. 

I love you, too, she thought back, sliding her hand through his hair gently before letting it rest on the back of his neck. "Dean?" 

"Yeah?" he asked absently, pulling away from her, his face becoming neutral. 

She held his gaze. "Be nice to Jo, okay?" she whispered. 

"Do I have to?" he grumbled. 

Her eyes were sad. "She cares about you. A lot. And I know you don't feel the same way, but..." She placed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I know what it's like to be in her position and it hurts." 

He sighed and closed his eyes against her caress. Like he needed a reminder of just how much Clark Kent had damaged her. "Okay," he muttered after a moment, pulling back from her, looking her intently. "But only because you want me to. I need the Colt, Chloe. It's the only way we can kill that yellow-eyed son of a bitch." He turned and strode out of the door, shutting it behind him quietly. 

_I love you,_ she thought, shutting her eyes tightly. 

_I love you, too,_ he thought, striding quickly down the hall. Anxious to leave so he could return to her and finish what she'd started earlier. 

&&&&&

Sarah stretched, her arm lightly hitting Sam's chest. She opened her eyes and turned over, watching her husband's peaceful profile as he still slept. She reached up and smoothed the lines out of his forehead, wondering at how youthful he looked in his sleep. She hadn't seen him like this, ever. She rested her head against his chest and sighed. 

Feeling her stir, he shifted a little, winding an arm around her even as his eyes remained shut. "Morning," he whispered. 

"Thought you were sleeping," she replied softly, smiling a little. 

Sam pressed a kiss against the top of her head, slowly combing his fingers through her long dark hair. "How ya feeling?" 

"So far, so good." She closed her eyes and snuggled into Sam's embrace. "At least the morning sickness hasn't kicked in yet. How are you?" 

"I'm good," he whispered back, a faint smile on his face. 

Sarah sat up and stretched again, looking back at him. Liar, she thought, looking intently at him. She then slipped out of bed and moved across the room to open the curtains. 

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly as the sunshine poured through the glass. He gazed at her intently, a little startled at how angelic she looked with the sun beaming upon her. You look beautiful, he thought, his smile widening. 

A hot blush spread across her cheeks, and she stood in the open window. "You're just saying that because I'm pregnant with your baby," she replied with a gentle smile. 

"You've always been beautiful," he said softly, gazing at her. 

Turning to look at him, Sarah grinned. "Even when I was trying to make you jealous with A.C.?" She took a step forward, amused by the dark look that crossed his face. 

He rose to his feet and reached out, gently pulling her to him. "I was an idiot." 

She giggled softly. "Yes, you are, but I love you anyway." Her arms snaked around his waist and she melted into his warmth. She pressed her lips to his naked chest just as she heard a knock on the door. 

"Chloe," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

"Yeah, I figured." She smiled and pulled away, reaching for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She wondered how much longer she could fit into them. 

He watched as she got dressed, pulling a t-shirt on over his head quickly as he headed for the door. 

Sarah heard the door open and light footsteps enter. "Hey, Chloe," she called, her voice muffled from the shirt over her face. She turned around, seeing the distressed look on her friend's face, and frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed. 

"I need you guys' help." Her tone was quiet, controlled, but Sam could tell it took all the effort she had to maintain that sense of calmness. 

"Sure, Chloe... what do you need?" Sarah glanced at Sam, whose face was set, determined. She had never seen Chloe like this before: the blonde was visibly shaking like a leaf. I wonder if it's Dean, she thought absently. 

She drew in a breath and Sam wondered why she'd blocked them from reading her mind. "Dean's looking for the Colt." 

Sarah blinked. "The Colt?" she asked, confusion registering on her face. She glanced at Sam, concern growing when his eyes grew wide with acknowledgment. 

"It's a...a gun that Samuel Colt made before he died," Sam explained quietly, looking at Sarah. "It can kill anything." 

She took in a deep breath. "Anything? As in... the yellow-eyed demon anything?" She saw Sam nod silently and stood there, awed and speechless. 

"What do you need our help with?" Sam asked quietly, his voice serious. 

Chloe wouldn't quite meet either of their gazes. "When Dean gets back here...I'm going to talk to Jo. But I don't want him to know that. I need the two of you to keep him here, and occupied." 

"Wait," Sarah said, taking a step towards Chloe. "Jo's here, in Atlantic City?" She looked uneasily at Sam. "Where is he now?" 

"He went to talk to her." 

"But why would he --?" Sarah stopped speaking when she realized the implication. "Jo has the Colt, doesn't she?" 

Chloe nodded slightly, falling silent. 

Pulling her hair back, she let out a breath and looked at Sam. "So how are we going to keep your antsy brother busy?" She smirked. 

"The question is...why are we keeping him busy?" he asked with a hint of suspicion, looking at Chloe. "What aren't you saying?" 

"Sam, I think she's going to try to get the Colt from Jo." Sarah heard the stray thought hit her between the eyes. Concern spread throughout her body, her hands settling over her stomach unconsciously. 

"Look..." Chloe shut her eyes. "I just need you to trust me. Please. It's important." 

"I know," she replied quietly, "but please, be careful?" Reaching out, she enclosed Chloe in a hug, trying to pass on a little extra confidence to her friend. "If you need us, please... call." 

"I will," she said softly, hugging Sarah back in return. 

Sam watched the two women part but couldn't shake the feeling something was really off. "Chlo, I have a bad feeling about this. You sure you don't need anything else besides baby-sitting big brother?" His brows furrowed. 

Chloe met his eyes for a moment. "I'm sure. Promise me you'll keep him here until you hear from me." 

He snorted, an amused smile on his face. "I can't promise we'll be in here, but we'll find something to keep him occupied." He winked at Sarah.

Threading her fingers through his, Sarah replied, "I'm thinking poker or something like that." 

"Thanks," she whispered, slowly turning and heading for the door. 

"No problem," Sarah replied, watching the blonde leave, the door shutting behind her. She turned to Sam and frowned. "Baby-sitting big brother?" she repeated, smirking despite the fear she felt in her heart. 

He looked at her worriedly. "Something's wrong." 

Yeah, something's very wrong, she thought, letting go of his hand. "She's worried about Dean... more than usual, actually." 

"Yeah. I just wish I knew why." 

"Me too." She sighed, turning back to the closed door. Sarah wished she was going with Chloe, doing more than sitting at the hotel and watching Dean pace the room. She had a feeling it was going to be a long day. 

&&&&&

Jo didn't look up as the door of the bar opened, simply continued wiping down the counter with her rag. "We're closed," she said. 

"Come on, Jo, you can be open with me," Dean smirked, waltzing through the door and watching the shock spread over her face. 

"Dean Winchester." She couldn't resist smirking back at him. "What are you doing in Atlantic City?" 

"It's called vacation, Jo," he returned, leaning against the countertop with a lazy, determined grin. "Why else would I be here?" A knowing gleam entered his eyes. 

She raised an eyebrow. "It is the second best gambling city in the country." She shrugged, unaware of her blue eyes sparkling as she gazed at him. 

"Hey, I been to Vegas. Nothing compares to that place." He settled down at the bar and threaded his hands. "So... what are you doing here?" he asked casually. 

"Working," she responded with another smirk. 

"Then get me a beer, working girl." He inwardly winced, knowing Chloe would probably kick his ass for flirting with this girl, but he needed some way of buttering her up. He needed the Colt, one way or the other. 

A grin tugged at her lips and a moment later she set a bottle in front of him. "Good to see you." 

He took a large swig of his beer, observing her carefully. "Yeah, you too," he replied carefully, backing off just a little, clearing his throat. "So... I hear you have something that belongs to me." 

"And what would that be?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. 

He smirked at the shot of irritation flashing across his hazel eyes. "Starts with a G. Ends in 'un'. Heard of it?" He sipped his beer with a grin. 

Her eyes narrowed a little. "And what makes you think it's yours?" 

"Since Dad found it... and then he died for it... it's safe to say it belongs to me." 

Jo flinched a little and quickly dropped her gaze to the counter. 

He frowned and finished off the beer. "So you have it," he remarked off-handedly, gazing at her intently. 

She closed her eyes briefly. "I need it," she whispered. 

He held out a patient hand. "Not as badly as I do," he replied. 

"It's not here, Dean. I didn't bring it with me to work." 

He sighed and stood up, shoving the empty beer bottle towards her. "Right, I figured you'd say that." He looked around, surveying the open room. "I wonder where you'd hide it, then." 

Jo glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. "Just...go away. Come back tonight. I need to think." 

"Think about what, Jo?" Dean asked, his ire rising with her reticence. "What do you need to think about? My family's on the line, here, and I need the Colt to kill this son of a bitch." 

She didn't answer, and didn't look at him. "Just come back tonight," she whispered, turning away from him. 

He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Why? Give me one good reason why?" He leaned against the counter, close to her. 

"Because I'm asking you to," she whispered. 

Pushing himself off the bar, Dean growled, "Just the reason why you never knew me. Because if you knew everything... you might have a little more understanding about it." Not waiting for a response, he stormed out of the bar, knocking the door back roughly as he swore to himself. He would come back, he thought. He'd ransack the place if needed. 

Jo watched him go, shuddering involuntarily and slowly sinking down onto a bar stool. 

&&&&&

Chloe drew in a breath as she walked into the small bar, glancing around hesitantly before making her way up to the bar where Jo stood. 

The despairing look fell into pure depression at seeing the slim, petite blonde walk through the very door Dean Winchester had left. The woman he had chosen over her. She bit her lip and focused on her fingernails. "What do you want?" she whispered. 

She gazed at her intently. "To talk," she said softly. 

Jo snorted and stood up, walking behind the bar once more. "Sure, talk away," she stated as evenly as she could, wiping down the counter once more. 

"Look...we didn't hit it off the last time we met. I'm sorry about that." Her voice was quiet. 

"Sorry I wasn't chosen or sorry I didn't get to him first?" She looked up, shooting daggers at the girl. 

Chloe didn't rise to the bait. "Listen to me. I know you care about Dean. And I know you don't want anything to happen to him," she said softly, remember the look of devastation on her face in the alternate version of the day. 

Jo's head shot up and she glared at Chloe. "What the hell are you talkin' about?" she demanded, a little irritated by her presence. 

She glanced around and leaned closer. "I'm going to tell you something and I need you to listen. Last night, Dean was here. He came for the Colt. And I'm not sure exactly what happened, but your friend Eddie ended up shooting him. He died in my arms." Her voice was unwavering, intense. 

"What? No, you're kidding... right?" She blanched at the seriousness of the situation when Chloe simply nodded. "Why would Eddie shoot Dean? I mean..." Her words fell away and she gazed at her hands again. 

"I don't know. All I know is I went to the crossroad to make a deal. And instead of a demon, their mother showed up." Her voice was hushed. 

"Their mother?" Clearly confused and uncertain of everything suddenly, Jo glanced up at Chloe. "So, what... you're telling me you've lived this day before?" 

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes haunted as she remembered watching Dean's life drain from his body. 

Jo shook her head, not quite sure whether she should believe Chloe or not. If it wasn't for the absolute look of desolation on her face, she might think her full of it. "So you're telling me he died, trying to get the Colt from me?" She swallowed hard. 

"Yes," Chloe said without hesitation, gazing back at her. "I saw the look on your face when you realized he was dead. You were as devastated as I was." 

Jo found the first thing to rest against and put a hand over her mouth. "I can't believe... oh my God, he wasn't kidding when he said he needed the gun..." She closed her eyes, fighting the sudden tears pricking to the surface. 

She gazed at the other girl, sadness in her eyes. She hesitantly reached out and touched her arm. "I need your help to stop this from happening again." 

Jo involuntarily flinched at the impact of the other girl's words. "I wish I could, Chloe," she whispered, freezing suddenly. 

"You're in trouble," she murmured, her eyes widening a little as she suddenly saw a pack of angry vampires in the other girl's mind. 

She flinched again, wondering how Chloe had know. She nodded silently and moved to the other side of the bar. "Killed their leader, but they got a hold of my scent in the process." She scrubbed the counter violently with her rag as she spoke. 

Chloe fell silent for a moment. "Come with me. We can keep you safe." 

Jo shook her head. "No way. Dean doesn't want me around." Her voice was mournful. 

"And if you don't, then you'll both die." 

Breathing heavily, Jo shook her head. "Guess I don't have a choice, do I?" she asked after a moment, knowing full well none of them would want her around. 

Her eyes were soft as she gazed at the other girl. "Look, you probably hate me and I understand that," she whispered. "But I don't hate you, Jo. And neither do Dean or Sam or Sarah." 

"Right," she replied sarcastically, "you don't hate me. We're the best of friends, aren't we?" She tossed the dirty rag over her shoulder, casting a glance at Chloe. 

She gazed at her intently. "I don't think we have to be best friends to want the same things." Her voice was quiet. 

Jo still wanted Dean, but she knew that wasn't going to happen. Nor did she want to admit that to the girl on the other side of the bar. "And what do we both want?" she whispered. 

"You and Dean to stay alive." 

Sighing in defeat, she replied, "Fine, I'll give Dean the Colt. I told him to come back tonight. So that's when I'll hand it over. Then you can decide if you still want me around or not." She tossed the rag in the sink with a smirk; Dean wasn't going to agree to this. 

"Dean doesn't want you dead either," Chloe said with a faint smile. 

Jo cocked an eyebrow at her. "Say, how come you keep stating things I'm thinking, anyhow? You read minds or something?" Her eyes shone with sharp curiosity. 

"Yeah. I can," she admitted, nodding a little. 

"Wonderful, just what I always wanted," she grumbled, heading for the back stockroom, "a mind-reading traveling companion." She paused at the door. "Tell Dean to be here at midnight, and I'll hand over the Colt." 

A faint amused smile on her lips, she headed for the door. "Thanks." She paused and turned to look at Jo once more. "It's gonna be okay. We'll keep you safe." Her words were quiet, firm. 

Watching Chloe nod and head for the door, Jo thought about how she might be safe with them, but if the vampires followed, they might all be in danger. And that was something she wasn't sure she was ready for. 

&&&&&

"Sammy, I swear to God if I have to listen to one more of... this," Dean shouted, flailing an arm towards the drunken karaoke singer currently butchering his favorite Metallica song, "I'm gonna shoot his ass with rocksalt!" He tried jumping up out of his seat, but Sam managed to restrain him. 

"You are not going anywhere," Sam protested, pulling him back down. "Just drink your beer." 

"I can't drink beer when they're killing my songs," he whined, grimacing when the singer hit a sour note. _I'm gonna hunt that drunk bitch down,_ he thought, looking around the club for something to throw at the singer.

Sarah sighed and leaned back, observing the brothers argue. "I guess this was a bust," she muttered to herself, grimacing at the off-key notes flinging about the room. 

"Chloe's on her way back," Sam murmured to Sarah, leaning over to whisper in her ear. 

"Thank God," she whispered under her breath, watching Dean turn a darker shade of red. She was worried about her friend, having been gone so long as to raise an alarm in her heart. That feeling hadn't gone away, and she wasn't sure what was worse, trying to pretend ignorance or knowing there was more to the story than they'd been told.

Dean stood up again, beer in his hand. "That's it. Dude's dead," he muttered. He had every intention of hitting the singer in the head with the bottle and taking off after Chloe, who had disappeared somewhere. And he wanted to know where. 

"Sit down," Sam commanded, shooting him a warning glare. 

"No, dammit," he growled, shooting daggers at the little karaoke stage, "I need to knock this guy out. He's killing this song!" 

Annoyed, Sam rose to his feet, towering over his older brother, missing the moment when Chloe walked through the door. 

Sarah rose and quickly moved to the other woman, the guys having their backs to her. "Hey," she whispered breathlessly, noting the blank look on Chloe's face. "How'd it go?" 

"Okay, I think." She was tense as she looked across the room to the brothers. "He's pissed about something." 

Sarah turned to look at Dean, his face angry as he spoke to Sam. "Yeah, and for the life of me, I don't know what it is." She frowned and looked back at Chloe. "He's been making fun of the karaoke singers for the last half an hour, but he won't talk about where he was earlier." 

Chloe drew in a breath and gave Sarah's arm a squeeze before slowly moving through the crowd, raising her eyebrows as she maneuvered herself between Dean and Sam. "Miss me?" 

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean practically snarled, turning and grabbing Chloe with both hands, hauling her into a tight, almost desperate embrace. 

She winced a little and hugged him back. _Let's go back to the hotel,_ she thought. 

_Yes, let's, before I kill the karaoke machine._ He took her hand and looked up over at Sam. "You two coming or not?" he demanded. 

Sam glanced at Sarah. "You ready to get outta here?" 

"God, yes," she replied, holding out her hand. We need to know what Dean and Chloe are up to. 

He nodded slightly, sliding her hand into his and following his brother and Chloe toward the door. _I'd really love to know what the hell's really going on._

 _God, Sam, you're just now asking that question?_ Dean's mental question was filled with irritation, though he stuffed the intense worry he'd felt with Chloe's absence the entire time she was gone. They walked to the Impala in silence, but Dean saw the carefully masked look on her face and knew something was up. 

She slid into the passenger seat without hesitation, remaining silent the entire drive and keeping them all out of her mind. 

The drive was quick, especially since the bar Sam and Sarah had taken him to was only a few blocks away. What irritated him was the fact that he felt like they had been baby-sitting him... something apparently true, since Chloe wasn't speaking to him. He didn't know what she was up to, but he sure as hell wanted to know.

So when they had finally reached his and Chloe's room, he turned to her and said, "Okay, spill it, Chloe. Where the hell have you been?"

"And what the hell is really going on?" Sarah interjected, looking from the eldest Winchester to his girlfriend, concerned. 

"I went to see Jo." Her voice was quiet and she didn't meet anyone's eyes. 

"Jo?" Dean was the first to speak, breaking the ear-shattering silence. "Why the hell did you go to see her?" 

Chloe fell silent for a moment. "Because I had to." 

Sam gazed at her intently, remaining quiet for the time being. 

Sarah looked at Dean, watched the color rise in his skin, and nodded quietly.

"You had to?" he asked, shutting the door behind them, keeping his back to her. "Like it was a compulsion you couldn't avoid? Because you thought I couldn't handle her myself?" 

"Because I know things that you don't," she responded, her voice calm. 

He spun around and gave her a hard look, folding his arms across his chest. "Oh yeah? You gonna clue us in on these things?" he remarked casually. 

"No. Not right now." She gazed back at him. "I just need you to trust me." 

He flinched like he’d been slapped in the face. "What more do I need to trust you with, Chloe?" he demanded loudly, taking a step towards her. "Clearly, you don't want to let me in. Again."

"Dean..." Sarah began but stopped when she felt Sam's hand on her shoulder. 

"It's not like that," she said softly, gazing at him intently. "I promise. And I will tell you. Just...not now." 

Running a hand through his hair, Dean headed for the door, grabbing the knob and yanking it open. He strode out and slammed the door behind him, too full of hurt and worry to show the others.

Grimacing at hearing the window rattle from the force of the door, she turned to Chloe with sad eyes. "What's really going on, Chloe?" she pleaded quietly. 

She flinched and shook her head, quickly following Dean out the door. "I need you to listen to me." She grabbed his arm. 

He yanked away from her and continued walking. "Leave me alone," he replied coldly. 

She ignored him, moving so she was standing in front of him, her hands out and pressed against his chest to stop him. "Jo's in trouble. She needs to come with us for awhile. It's why she didn't want to give you the Colt." 

"Yeah? Well, she's so damned competent, why can't she take care of herself without the Colt?" 

"Because there's a nest of vampires after her. She killed their leader, they have her scent." 

He sighed in frustration. "God, you'd never think she was a hunter's daughter." He stepped back from her touch. "Why are you telling me this, Chloe? She won't give me the Colt, so I'm going to take it from her." 

"She is going to give it to you. But she's gotta come with us." Her eyes were pleading. 

If a frown could hit the floor, Dean's would have at that moment. "You're fucking kidding me," he complained quietly, fists balling tightly. 

"If she doesn't come with us, she's going to die. And she's not the only one." Her words were clipped, dead serious. 

He snorted. "What, we're gonna help her kill the vamps or else we'll die?" 

Chloe's jaw tightened. "You really wanna see her dead, Dean?" she demanded. 

"Hell no, I don't wanna see her dead," he said loudly, looking down. "It's just... how am I going to get any rest with both of you around doing the Jealous Girl dance?" 

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Did I act jealous this morning when you went to talk to her?" 

"I'm not talking about you, Chloe... I meant her." It didn't take a genius to know Jo still held a torch for him, even though she'd die before admitting it. 

"She's stronger than she looks. And she doesn't wanna die. Dean...right now she's completely alone. Vulnerable. A few months ago, she could've been me." 

Dean flinched, his eyes dark and wary. "Fine, we'll take her along. Now, can I go now?" 

"No," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands and gazing into his eyes. "I love you. I've never loved anyone this much before, and I never will again." Her green eyes sparkled with tears. 

Suddenly, the anger washed away, as if her tears melted the ice that had formed around his heart during the last couple of hours. He reached up and touched her hands, dark hazel eyes gazing at her. "Hey, are you okay? Never seen you like this before." 

Wordlessly she pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss. _I'm okay. And I swear I will tell you everything soon,_ she thought, sliding her fingers through his hair. 

"Chloe," he groaned, pulling her to him, his lips moving over hers. Conveying his confusion and love for her. He wasn't looking forward to taking Jo with them, but if it meant getting the Colt, then he'd do what was necessary. 

Her fingers trailed down the back of his neck, stroking the skin there gently. 

He shivered, grasping her sides firmly, kissing her lightly for a moment. "We need to tell Sam and Sarah," he said, voice quiet but firm. 

"I will," she whispered against his mouth. "You go get Jo and the Colt." 

He placed lingering kisses on her lips. "Do I have to get her?" he tried to tease gently, still balking slightly over the thought. 

"Yes," she said softly. "But I promise it'll be okay." She returned the kisses. 

"You'd... better," he murmured between kisses, "because after this, I think I'm going to need your special brand of TLC." 

A smile tugged at her lips. "Count on it." 

He stepped back, patting his pocket to make sure his gun was safely tucked into his jacket pocket. He caught Chloe's troubled look and frowned. "What? I always carry it with me," he stated. 

"Dean... be really nice to Jo, okay? And make sure she thinks you want her to come along." Her eyes were worried. 

He almost made a biting remark but bit his tongue. The look on her face was enough to make him wonder what she really knew. "Okay," he agreed quietly, glancing at the elevator. 

"Thank you." She kissed him softly once more, touching his cheek. 

His lips drifted to the palm of her hand, caressing her skin for a moment. Dean then moved away from her, smiling a little before heading down the hall towards the elevator. Back to the roadhouse to get the Colt and save Jo. The one person he never thought he'd hunt with again. 

&&&&&

Chloe slowly made her way back to the hotel room she'd followed Dean out of, not meeting Sam's or Sarah's eyes. "We're...gonna have a new traveling companion for awhile." 

Sarah frowned immediately. "It's Jo, isn't it?" 

"Yeah. It is." Her voice was soft. 

Sam blew out a breath and looked at Chloe. "Why?" he asked gently, taking Sarah's hand. "I thought you two hated each other." 

"I don't hate Jo." She leaned against the wall. "She's in trouble." 

"What kind of trouble?" Sarah asked immediately. "Please, we need to know everything." She sensed her friend's hesitancy and silently pleaded with her. 

"She killed the leader of a pack of vampires. Now they're after her. It's why she needed the Colt." 

She put a hand over her mouth, horrified. "Oh my God," Sarah whispered, "how many are after her?"

Sam shook his head, looking at the floor for a moment. 

"At least seven. Maybe more." Her voice was quiet and she avoided looking at Sam. 

"She can't fight all of them alone," he replied, still gazing at the floor.

Sarah shook her head in agreement, though she never stopped looking at Chloe. "Does Dean know about this?" 

"He knows." She wound her arms around herself and moved to look out the window. 

She sighed, glancing at Sam. "And I take it this is a bad thing," she remarked wryly. "She's still in love with Dean, isn't she?" 

"Can't blame her there," Chloe said softly. 

Grinning, Sarah replied, "Well, when you're with a Winchester, it's unavoidable." She watched the smile form on Sam's face and melted inside. 

_You got that right,_ she thought with a faint, sad smile as she leaned her head against the glass. 

Sam folded his arms, silently taking in all this information. The blonde looked, if anything, worse off than when she entered the room. "What else is going on?" he asked finally, quietly observing her pale face. 

She flinched a little, knowing he was trying very hard to read her mind right then. "Sam..." 

"Chloe," he repeated softly. "You have to let us in. I know something's wrong." He glanced at Sarah, worried over what she was hiding. 

She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the glass for a moment. "I lived this day before," she whispered. 

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Sarah's eyes grew wide with surprise: Sam, trying to remain calm, simply looked at Chloe, mentally urging her to continue. _What happened?_ he asked, pushing at her mind again. 

She kept the walls up firmly between them, not willing to let him see the things he had in the alternate day. "Let's just say it didn't end well and leave it at that." 

He couldn't let it go. Wasn't willing to. He nudged calmly at her mind. "Like what?" 

She turned to look at him, her eyes distant. "You don't wanna know." 

Feeling a headache coming on, Sarah rubbed her temples gently. "I think you need to let it go, Sam," she whispered, pained by the look on Chloe's face. Whatever secret she was keeping she wasn't going to divulge.

"Maybe I do," he replied, his face turning hard with determination. "Because how can I protect Dean if I don't know what's going on?" 

Growing frustrated, Chloe met his eyes. "Because this wasn't a test for you. It's a test for me." 

"Test? What test?" Sam looked over at Sarah, who was giving him an irritated glare.

"Sam, let... it... go," she repeated, moving towards Chloe, enveloping her in a tight hug. She wanted to know, but not at the expense of Chloe's distraught state. 

She rested her head against Sarah's for a moment, then slowly pulled away, heading for the door. 

Sarah watched Chloe leave, understanding the pain she was in. "Chlo," she whispered, "is there anything else we can do to help you out?" She moved back and pushed Sam towards Chloe, giving him a look.

"Sarah, I'm going with Dean, okay?" 

"No," Chloe said quickly, turning around with wide eyes. She couldn't let anything from the alternate day come close to happening again. 

"Why not?" he demanded a little harshly. "I'm not going to sit here, twiddling my thumbs, while Dean's out there facing who knows what just to get this damn gun!" 

She flinched involuntarily at his tone, keeping her back pressed against the door. "For one, he's already left. Secondly, he's just gonna go get Jo. All right?" 

Reaching for his wallet, Sam moved towards the door. "I'll call a cab and follow him. I need to make sure he'll be okay."

Sarah stood there, feeling a little more than helpless, especially since she rarely saw Sam this aggravated. 

She grabbed his arm. "You can't," she whispered. 

"Why not?" he grunted, surprised at the vice-grip hold she had.

Suddenly a light in Sarah's mind lit up, making her knees quake in fear. "Sam," she whispered in a panicked voice, eyes focused intently on Chloe's frightened face, "please, for the love of God, stay here. Please." She glanced at Sam for a second, then looked back at her friend. Something had happened to Dean, she wondered. She didn't know how she knew: call it gut instinct. 

"I need you to trust me," Chloe whispered, tears prickling in her eyes. "Please, Sam." 

"It's not about trust," he complained softly, looking at his wife for a moment. "It's about keeping my family safe. All of us. We're supposed to be on vacation, remember?"

Sarah took a determined step towards him. "Then stay with us and we can find something to celebrate while waiting for Dean." She touched his arm firmly, eyes boring into his, unwilling to let him go. 

Chloe's expression was pained at his words. "That's what I'm trying to do," she whispered, turning and heading out the door. 

Sam watched her leave, letting her go. The moment she was out the door, however, he turned to Sarah. "I'm going after my brother," he stated evenly, ignoring the despairing look in Sarah's eyes.

"What?" she demanded, a little angry that he refused to listen to reason. "No, Sam. No. It's just a little thing he's doing, okay?" Fear crept into her heart as she spoke, wondering if something truly would happen again if Sam left them to go after Dean. 

"It'll be okay," he said, kissing her forehead and heading for the door. 

She reached out a hand, trying to stop him, but he evaded her. She ran to the door after him, but he proved elusive, running quickly down the hall towards the elevator. Knowing she couldn't run after him. Sighing and putting her head against the doorframe, she tossed a thought his way. No, Sam, isn't not going to be okay. 

&&&&&

Chloe was already in the hotel lobby when she saw him coming out of the elevator, a surge of frustrated anger and deep weariness settling in her bones. The man was more stubborn than Clark Kent on red Kryptonite. Her face was even as he approached and she watched the surprise flicker over his expression when he spotted her. "I know you too well." 

"Won't stop me from going, though," he retorted, determined to follow his brother no matter what. He maneuvered past her, heading for the outside lobby to hail a cab. 

"Will seeing your brother die stop you?" Her voice was hard. 

He nearly tripped over his feet at her words. "What?" he said, utterly surprised at what she had shouted. Fortunately the lobby was empty, or else people would start asking questions. He turned around, watching her trying to keep from collapsing. "Is that what happened?" 

"Yes," she answered, her eyes distant. "It's what I'm trying to keep from happening again, but you won't listen to me." 

He sucked in an agitated breath. "It won't happen again." He turned and walked outside, whistling for a cab. 

Anger flooding her, she followed him, grabbing his arm and yanking him back from the curb. "You're not going." 

"I am, too," he grumbled, pulling away from her. "It's my job, Chloe." He was so intent on looking for a cab that he didn't notice the sheer defeat that crossed her features. 

"It's mine too," she whispered. "Do you think there's anything I wouldn't do to keep Dean safe? Anything I wouldn't give up?" 

Sam knew there wasn't. She loved Dean completely. Turning around slowly, he gazed at her stricken face. "When you said this was a test for you... what did you mean by that?" he asked carefully. 

Drawing in a breath, she closed her eyes. "He died in my arms. I went to the crossroads north of the bar." Her voice was quiet. 

Shock flowed through him like a river washing over its banks. "God, please tell me you didn't...." He couldn't finish his statement: his tongue suddenly felt dry and thick with terror. 

"When I tried to summon the demon, your mother showed up instead." 

Sam blinked. "My mother?" He felt on the verge of his brain shutting down with all the information he had managed to drag out of him. His mental walls must have dropped, too, because he saw Sarah walk outside looking fiercely upset.

A little breathless, Sarah looked between Sam and Chloe. Feeling awkward and out of place, she just took Sam's hand and squeezed it. 

"She told me I had to be the one to save him. That everything depended on it. And then she restarted the day." She drew in a shuddering breath. 

Sarah nodded. "And I'd say you've done that, Chloe," she said, giving Sam a meaningful glance. Let Chloe do this, she thought. We need to take care of her, okay? 

Sam closed his eyes, trying to wrap his mind around his mother talking to Chloe. "She wasn't a demon in disguise, was she?" 

"No," she said softly, winding her arms around herself. "There was no deal. She just said to save him. To do whatever it takes." 

He nodded, looking down, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. He was so used to looking after Dean: sometimes he had to remember they weren't alone anymore.

"You wanna to get a drink?" Sarah asked Chloe sheepishly. "A non-alcoholic one for me, in any case?" 

"No," she said softly. "You guys go ahead." She slowly turned away from them. 

"Where are you going?" Sam asked quietly, watching her walk away. 

Her mental walls firmly in place, she forced a small smile. "Just on a little walk. I'll be back." 

He didn't believe her for a second, but let her leave them. He turned to face Sarah, her dark eyes alive with worry. "Are you okay?" 

She didn't answer him, looking at Chloe's retreating figure. She wondered if, one day, that would be her, trying to save Sam. A darkness threatened to settle over her heart. "Can we never take a vacation again?" she asked absently. 

&&&&&

Jo paced the length of the bar nervously, her eyes locked on the clock. It was Midnight and she'd convinced herself that Dean wasn't going to show up. 

Taking a deep breath, Dean unrolled out of the driver's seat, locking the Impala before striding quickly to the roadhouse. He still wasn't sure Chloe's suggestion was a good idea, but if it meant getting his hands on the Colt... Well, he was willing to do just about anything.

"Jo," he called quietly, walking through the dimly lit, empty bar. 

She turned, startled at his voice, surprise registering on her face. "Hi." Her eyes were guarded, uncertain. 

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Uh, hey." He shut the door behind him and moved towards the counter. 

She watched him for a moment, then reached beneath the bar and set the Colt on the counter, remaining silent. 

For a moment, he glanced at her, cocking an eyebrow. His fingers touched the cold barrel, closing around it slowly. "Still got the bullet?" he asked quietly. 

"It's in there," she said just as quietly. 

He nodded, taking the Colt and hiding it in his jacket. He turned around, saying, "Let's go." 

Jo was silent for a moment. "No. Good luck." 

"No, come on," he protested, turning around with a frustrated growl. "I've already had to contend with one stubborn woman. Don't make my day any worse." 

A faint smile touched her lips. "Yeah. About that. She's not so bad after all." 

He smiled, thinking of Chloe. How she was waiting for him. "Yeah, she's better than I am," he admitted quietly. He looked at her squarely. "And she'll never talk to me again if I go back without you." 

Surprise flickered over her features. "If I go with you...I'll be putting all four of you at risk." 

"In case you haven't guessed," Dean said, chuckling knowingly, "we're always at risk." He gave her a pointed look. 

A smile tugged at her lips and she looked down at the bar for a moment. "I don't suppose there's any chance you're heading to South Dakota." 

Dean smirked. "You want to go home?" 

She shot him a look. "We all gotta go home sometime." 

"Been there, done that," he replied with a snort, glancing at the door. "We haven't seen Ellen in awhile, so might as well head that way." He moved towards the door. 

Drawing in a breath, she grabbed her bag from beneath the counter and followed him. She had a feeling it was going to be a long trip. 

&&&&&

The ride back to the hotel was long and awkward, and by the time Jo left to get her own room for the night, Dean's nerves were stretched to the breaking point. He couldn't wait for the elevator, so he took the stairs, two and three at a time, anxious to see the people he loved again. The only thing keeping him from breaking was the Colt, which still had the bullet. 

Yanking the stairway door open, he jogged to the room he shared with Chloe, only to find her gone. He looked around, heading for Sam's door, pounding frantically. 

Relief washed over Sam as he found his brother safe and sound on his doorstep. "Oh thank God." 

Dean smirked at him. "No, thank Dean," he retorted, heading into the room and nodding at Sarah. "Because look what I have." He pulled out the gun and handed it to his brother.

"That's it?" she whispered quietly from her seat in the corner. 

Sam took the Colt from him, staring at it for a long moment. "Jo?" 

"She's downstairs, getting a room for the night." He rubbed a hand over his face. "She wants to go back to South Dakota."

It took Sarah a moment to comprehend what Dean was saying. "Oh," she said finally, "back to the Roadhouse?" 

"She's finally ready to go home," Sam murmured, slowly moving to sit down on the bed. 

Dean nodded, frowning a little. "If I floor it, we could make there in a couple of days..." He stopped when his brother gave him a look. "What?" 

"Nothing," he said softly, gazing at him intently. 

"You're such a liar, Sam Winchester," Sarah replied, standing up and heading for the door. "Don't you know Dean can't handle two women at once?" She winked at Dean, grateful to see him alive and in one piece, then headed for the door. "I'm going to see if Jo needs anything." 

"Yeah, good idea." Sam rose to his feet, watching her head out the door. 

Dean rolled his eyes. "I can too handle two women at once,” he grumbled, sitting heavily into a chair. He was tired, he thought, wondering where Chloe was. "Man, this vacation sucked." 

"Could have been a lot worse," he said solemnly. 

Dean noticed the look on Sam's face but said nothing. Whatever his brother was ruminating about, it would just have to wait. "Where's Chloe?" he asked. "She's not in our room." 

"She went for a walk." His voice was soft and he couldn't take his eyes off his brother. 

He shot up out of his seat. "A walk? Where the hell did she go at this time of night?" He looked over at Sam and frowned. "Dude, don't go chick flick on me, okay?" 

"Right. Sorry. Jerk." A small smile touched his lips. 

"Bitch," he replied with a small, confused smile. He briefly wondered what had happened today to make Sam go all maudlin, but he decided to leave things as they were. Reading his brother's mind was the last thing he wanted to do. Right now, at least. "So you gonna tell me where she went or not?" 

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if I had to guess, the beach would probably be a good place to look." 

"The beach. That's such a chick thing to do," he grumbled, heading towards the door quickly. "Can you and Sarah make sure Jo's okay?" 

"Yeah, of course. Dean?" 

"Yeah, Sammy?" 

Sam gazed at him intently for a minute. "She's had a rough day." 

"I'm not gonna be hard on her," Dean replied with a frown. "What happened today?" 

A sad smile touched his face. "You'll have to ask her." 

_Should I is the question_ , he thought, giving his brother a questioning look. "Don't wait up for us." He crooked a smile, disappearing into the hallway. 

&&&&&

Chloe sat on the beach, staring blankly over the water, the moonlight dancing on the waves. Drawing in a breath as the water lapped at her bare feet, she kept her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering a little though the night arm was warm. 

It was surprising how easily he found her, especially given the long tract of beach that bordered the main strip along the beach. Dean parked the Impala in an empty parking lot, seeing a small figure hunched over by the water, relieved to see her alive, in one piece. He got out and took off his shoes, muttering a soft curse when the still warm sand touched his calloused feet.

He worked towards her, feet shuffling against the sand, closing the distance between them. "Hey," he called when he reached her. 

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes unreadable against the darkness. "Hey," she whispered. 

He dropped to his knees behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to him. He dropped a kiss against the back of her neck, feeling her soft tresses against his cheek. "Been looking for you." 

She closed her eyes, leaning back against him as his arms enfolded her into a tight embrace. She let out a shuddering breath, covering his arms with her own. 

"What's wrong?" he whispered, burying his face into her hair, wondering at her vanilla-scented skin. Her warmth. "I got the Colt, with Jo in tow..." He frowned with she shivered uncontrollably against him. 

She shifted in his arms, turning around so she was facing him. Wordlessly she wound her arms around his neck tightly, her fingers threading through his hair. 

Sensing the desperation in her touch, Dean lowered his head, crushing his mouth against hers in a blinding kiss. He held onto her tightly, lips moving against hers firmly. 

She closed her eyes, returning the kiss with urgency, need. The memory of his body limp in her arms, life drained from him was too much to bear and a tear slipped down her cheek as she shifted closer to him. 

Dean felt her legs wind around his torso, her body pressing against his, lighting an urgent fire in his body. His lips opened hers, tongue seeking entrance to her mouth, deepening the kiss. Hands roamed across her back, tracing patterns on her clothed shoulders, trying to ease the tension away. 

She whimpered softly, her fingers sliding down the back of his neck. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "So much." 

"Chloe," he whispered, breathing heavily against her skin as he trailed kisses along her cheek, down to her neck. _I love you, too._

She tugged gently on the front of his shirt as she lay back on the sand, gazing up at him. 

His lips stroked her neck as she lay back, tilting her head up, giving her permission to do whatever he wanted. His hands worked under her shirt, lifting it high, exposing her lace-clad breasts. He put his face between them, holding onto her, his body hard and ready for her. 

"Please, Dean," she whispered, her voice strained as she slid her fingers down his back. 

He chuckled a little, moving up to gaze into her eyes. "Here? Now?" When he saw the tears in her eyes, saw her lower lip tremble violently, he almost stopped his caresses. Her hold on him, though, was too complete. He would do anything for her. With one hand, he unclasped her bra and gently tweaked her taut nipple. 

She moaned softly, tugging his head down and crushing her lips against his as his fingers worked her body into a heated frenzy, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head frantically. She then slid her hands down his chest to undo the button on his jeans, fumbling with the urgency she felt. 

He moved his hips, helping her open his fly, nearly coming when she palmed his hard cock, rubbing him frantically. "Chloe," he groaned against her breast. I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that. His hands nearly ripped her jeans button and zipper off. 

She bit down lightly on his lower lip as he yanked her jeans down to her knees and she pulled him closer, pressing herself against him urgently, trying to kick her jeans from her legs. _Please,_ she begged inwardly, whimpering. _I can't wait anymore._

Pulling one leg out of her jeans, he wound it around him, lifting her hips as he drove into her, grunting when their bodies connected. He thrust into her mercilessly, sensing a need possessing her that vaguely unsettled him. His mouth crushed against hers, tongues mating. Her body jerked against his, and his hips answered her demands. 

She cried out softly, another tear trickling down her cheek and she raked her nails lightly down his back, gripping onto him with a desperation she hadn't remembered feeling before. He was alive and in her arms. For now. 

His sweat slick body collided with hers feverishly, and he felt her burning inside with the beginnings of her climax. His thrusts became ragged and uneven as he felt himself lost control, coming when he felt her inner walls pulling him in, jerking against his cock. He cried out, her name on his lips like a prayer, collapsing on top of her, exhausted. He buried his face into her neck, breathless. "I love you," he whispered. 

She slid her arms around him, keeping him close, her own breathing still ragged. "I love you too," she whispered back, tracing her fingers through his short hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The pain and fear she'd been feeling were still present. Still breath-taking. But she tried to push that all away as she lay beneath him silently, closing her eyes. 

He chuckled a little, rolling over and taking her with him. Wrapping his arms around her, he looked into her dazed, watery eyes. "Kinda figured that with what just happened." He looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?" 

Chloe gazed down at him, hesitating. "I lost you," she whispered almost inaudibly. 

"No you didn't," he protested, holding her to him tightly. She shuddered against him, not from the sweat cooling on her skin, either, he realized with a start. 

"I did," she whispered again, pressing her face against his neck for a moment before lifting her head to look at him once more. "You died in my arms in the back of the Roadhouse here in Atlantic City." 

He thought for a moment she was joking and smirked. "The hell I..." Dean stopped speaking when he saw the complete despair in her eyes, her face turning ghostly pale. "No way, Chloe," he said, rubbing her back. "I think I would have remembered that." 

"Not if the day restarted," she whispered. 

"What?" 

She slowly laid her head down, listening to the sound of his heartbeat for a few moments. "Jo wouldn't give you the gun and when you tried to take it...some friend of hers...Eddie...he shot you," she whispered. 

Dean swallowed hard, his hand resting on her head. Pressing her against his chest, reminding her he was alive. Even as his body turned cold with shock, he blinked up at the night sky, watched the stars, and knew he was still alive. "Well, I don't know what happened, but I guess I got a second chance," he said absently. 

Chloe closed her eyes, the words echoing in her mind. 

When she didn't speak, Dean put his head back against the sand and sighed. "We need to go," he continued, "before we get arrested for indecent exposure." 

She sat up slowly, quickly tugging her jeans back on before reaching out and picking his shirt up. Her eyes were filled with rapidly swirling emotions as she tugged it gently over his head, her hand pausing over his heart. "Dean?" Her voice was barely a whisper. 

He took the shirt from her and pulled it over his head. He felt weary, drained. And her troubled voice, her pleading eyes, seemed to suck him into the void he felt between them. "Yeah," he said, not looking at her, though he had taken her hand, squeezing it gently. 

"Promise me that..." She lifted her hands to his face, making him look at her. "That you won't leave me." 

His hand clamped down on hers. "You know I'm never going to," he rasped, hurt that she might have any doubt about that. 

"I wouldn't get through it," she whispered, her voice strained. 

He gazed intently at her. "And what makes you think I'd live if we were separated?" He kissed her gently, keeping his anger at bay. 

"Not...like that." She touched his cheek, closing her eyes and letting the mental walls drop, letting him see everything that had happened in the day that wasn't. 

The images she shot at him bombarded his mind, bringing angry tears to his eyes. The blood. It was everywhere: on her hands, her shirt, on him. He watched her weeping over his body, cold and pale from the exsanguination. He blinked several times before the image faded and he saw Chloe talking to his mother. "The hell?" he whispered, hearing Mary's words about this being a test. For Chloe.

To prove her worth. 

He grasped onto Chloe's arms for support, stroking her with unseeing eyes. 

She slid her arms around him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder. 

He gasped for breath, as if the bullet had pierced his body again. "A test? Bullshit..." He dragged in a deep breath, putting both hands on her head, pulling her face to his with another feral kiss. _I'm not gonna leave you,_ he promised her. _Never._

She kissed him back urgently, her fingers tangling in his hair. _I was afraid I would fail,_ she admitted silently. 

He broke the kiss, looking at her incredulously. "How the hell could you think that? You're good at everything you do." He smirked at her knowingly. 

"But the stakes had never been this high before," she whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand. "Not for me." 

He sighed and looked away for a second. "I know, but... Chloe, it was my mom. Since she wasn't a crossroads demon, she was there for a greater purpose. You're a part of us, don't you see that by now? She didn't need to test your worth for me to find you worth all the rubies in the world." 

A faint smile touched her lips. "I love you," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth and resting her forehead against his. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean breathed in, entwining their fingers. Feeling her heartbeat echo in his soul. She belonged to him, just like he was hers. He smiled at the thought. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel where I can love you properly." 

"You always do. Doesn't matter where we are," she whispered against his ear. 

He smiled and looked into her eyes. "Then let's get back so I can strip you naked and enjoy washing the sand off your hot little body." His eyes shone wickedly at the thought. 

She grinned involuntarily, winding her arms around his neck as he picked her up, her own eyes bright again, seeming to sparkle in the moonlight. "You're the only one I ever want," she whispered seriously. 

He kissed her nose. "Good thing, because I'm an antique and break easily." He carried her quickly to the Impala, tucking her in the passenger seat. When he slid in next to her, he pulled her close to him, their bodies touching as he started the car, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath his feet. 

She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she slid her arm around his waist possessively. 

Smiling and throwing an arm around her shoulder, pulling her flush against him, Dean drove off into the night towards the hotel, an image of a future with her flashing into his mind for a split second: it was the peace of relative normalcy he had craved his entire life... and possibly, Chloe was the key to that. His brother seemed to have found it in Sarah, so why not he and Chloe when they killed the Yellow-Eyed Demon and Lex Luthor? 

"Come on, let's take Jo back to Ellen," he whispered, kissing the top of Chloe's head, keeping the car straight on the road. 

Chloe nodded slightly, curling against him and closing her eyes. She didn't know what was to come. Right now, all that mattered was the present.


End file.
